Remember how I told you guys that I took an impromptu trip? It was for my bff's 40th birthday party! She's the one I wrote about licking slugs. Even though I'm going back to Oregon for a long visit in three days, I just couldn't miss her party. So glad I didn't. There is nothing like backyard dancing to the same Michael Jackson songs over and over at 2 a.m. with your best girlyfriends (and a couple brave guys). Life is just too short not to be there.
According to my birthday counter, I am now 63 days away from "the big day." Between my flying and money anxieties, I have almost talked myself out of doing anything. Almost. My mom was actually the one who pushed me over the edge of not letting that happen. She said something complex like "oh, c'mon you just have to do it." So I am. So there. I mean my mom told me to right?
Here's the plan for the FALL OF FORTY (notice the word play??):
September: Complete first triathlon without drowning.
October: Party in Oregon October 3rd. No details yet other than tequila, dancing and a surprise appearance by Justin Timberlake (still working on one of those). No children allowed.
November: Learn to surf in Barbados. No children allowed.
December: Buy my children a ridiculous amount of guilt-induced Christmas presents.
I'd love to add more self-indulgence to the list like a yoga retreat, bike tour, etc. but I'm afraid that my husband and children would be mommy-shopping on Craig's List at that point. Maybe for 41?
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